I Want You To Stay
by nature-lover2003
Summary: In high school, Jonathan Crane had no friends that is until he met Nina Leigh. She was the one person he could call a friend. Unfortunately, she joined the Army and he went to study psychology at Gotham University. Will old feelings spark after seeing each other after so many years? (Rated M for sexual content, peril, military references, and drugs. Don't read if you're sensitive.)
1. Chapter 1

**(A/N: Since I've only seen about 2 or 3 stories that talk about when Crane was in high school, I thought I'd just do one myself. I've been reading a lot of comic books online lately, so in 2019 I can tell my best friend that I've gone full nerd! Lol!**

 **The version of Crane/Scarecrow that I'll be using in this story is from the Dark Knight Trilogy. As everyone should know, he's portrayed by Cillian Murphy. Fun Fact that a lot of people probably don't know: The reason why Dr. Crane appeared looked short in the Dark Knight Trilogy, despite that the comics and even the "Arkham" video game series have all confirmed that he's 6 feet tall, is because Cillian Murphy stands at 5'9 in height. Believe it or not, but on Murphy's IMDb page it lists that his height is 1.75 meters, which would make him 5'7 in height. To be 5'9, he would have to be at 1.79 to 1.8 meters. So, for Scarecrow's sake, I'm just gonna imagine that Murphy is taller. If you guys don't want to, that's fine too. I can't force you to imagine something that you do or don't believe in or in this case to imagine someone taller by just 3 inches.**

 **Oops, I, uh, let myself get carried away there, sorry about that. I swear, it happens to me** _ **all the time**_ **, it's not something that I can control and it annoys everyone!**

 **Anyway, the title of this story comes from the a line in the verse of the song "Stay" by Rihanna. The version of the song that I listen to, however, is the Jared Leto version. I just like Thirty Seconds to Mars, that's it.**

 **Ok, I really want to get on with this so, just like I've said with multiple other stories; this will be in Third Person, unless I decide to change it to First Person.)**

 **O** -x~o- **X** -o~x- **O**

It was the Autumn Solstice and the weather and the leaves clearly showed the seasonal change. The air out was very crisp and cool; a dramatic change from the boiling sun in the summer. The leaves were a very warm and comforting hue; the colors mirrored the bright colors of a campfire. The said leaves decorated the streets and sidewalks with their beautifully relaxing colors as an eddy of wind blew the fallen leaves into different areas with each new breeze.

The fall season meant sports such as football, basketball, track, and cross-country. It also meant torture for seventeen-year-old Jonathan Crane. It was almost his eighteenth birthday and he would be graduating that very year. He wasn't sure how he had survived this long as the number one bully victim at his high school.

People would often call him "Scarecrow" or "Ichabod Crane" because of his lanky appearance, pale skin, shaggy brown hair, and piercing blue eyes. His hair appeared to be lighter than it really was due to always being thrown to the dry dirt ground. His pale skin and scrawny body were due to an abusive great-grandmother, who often neglected to feed him, and a crippling fear of crows caused by said great-grandmother. But his eyes were his most distinctive feature, the sky itself would envy them.

They - his tormentors - often thought that he was spineless, but that couldn't be further from the truth; he had a terrible temper. He was often hostile towards others, due to all the criticism he gets on a daily basis.

He wasn't very muscular, in fact, he wasn't muscular in the slightest. He was most definitely more brains than brauns. He was also one of the fastest runners because of his boney legs. All of that combined gave him somewhat of an advantage, but - just like high school - it wouldn't last forever.

He woke up early as usual and got ready for the day. He decided to wear a pair of brown pants and a striped tan, dark brown, and white long sleeved shirt. He grabbed his backpack, a couple of books, and his glasses. He put on his glasses before heading downstairs; sometimes he wishes that he didn't even have his glasses, so that he didn't look as nerdy. Sadly, without his glasses, he was practically blind - he could see up to about twenty-five yards away, but anything and everything beyond that was nothing but blurriness. He knew that it would be easier for people to jump him if he couldn't see them because it would be difficult - if not impossible - for him to defend himself.

He arrived at school early, ignoring all the looks and snickering from his peers, and went straight for the library. He wanted to read his books while he still had the chance. He was about to walk around a corner that lead to the library when someone bumped into him, causing him to drop his books. The person that dumped into him had also dropped their books and some papers, too.

The person was a girl, probably in the same grade as he, with brown hair that reminded him of pecans. Her hair was rather long, as it went all the way down to her shoulder blades. Her skin was fair but not as fair as he was. Her head was down, so he couldn't tell what her face looked like or the color of her eyes. He could see a silver chain necklace with a turquoise stone surrounded by a braided bronze wire hanging from her neck. She was wearing white shorts with black leggings, red and black shoes, and a dark ash-gray jacket with a green Army pattern on both sleeves. Her jacket was zipped all the way up to her collarbones, so it was impossible to tell what she was wearing underneath. The jacket itself was much bigger than her, it was more like a blanket than a jacket; almost making him wonder if it even belonged to her.

She kneeled to the ground and began to pick up her papers and books, as well as his books. She picked up his books and reached up to give them back to him. When she did, he could see that she had brilliant icy green eyes with a fainted pale blue tint. Strands of her hair were draped over her face, as if a light breeze went through her hair and she didn't even bother to brush it back with her hand.

Her face was oval in structure but had rather sharp features. She had no blemishes, not even a beauty mark. She did have a mole on the left side of her neck, just below her jawline. She wasn't wearing any makeup, which he liked because it allowed him to see her real face.

Her legs were well-defined almost like that of a dancer or professional runner. Despite her jacket being bigger than her body, he was still able to make out her figure. He could tell she had an athletic figure, but appeared to be a bit more slim. Based on how the jacket fit her body, it lead him to conclude that she most likely had a small frame.

Overall, she was very attractive; no doubt she'll be a girl that every guy will want. He knew that a lot of the other girls will be jealous of her. He knew from experience over the years that she'll either become one of the most popular girls or at the very bottom with him.

"S-Sorry, about that," she apologized and he could tell that she was a nervous wreck.

He shrugged, "Accidents happen."

"Are you going to take the book?" she asked, her voice was slightly shaky but she kept her question solid.

"Oh, right," he took back his book, "sorry."

"'The Legend of Sleepy Hollow'?" she questioned as she stood up.

"Uh, yeah," he replied, "a lot of people make fun of me by calling me "Ichabod Crane", so I decided to read the book to learn more about Ichabod."

"Oh, I've read "Sleepy Hollow" before," she told him, "I won't spoiler it for you."

He didn't really know what else to say, so he asked her, "What books do you have?"

She handed him one of the novels she was holding, "Here, take a look."

"'The Things They Carried'?" he questioned.

"Uh, yeah, my dream is to join the military, so I read a lot of books and novels about wars, concentration camps, and other things like that," she replied.

"My dream is to study psychology," he told her.

"Wow, that's some dream. I'm Nina Leigh, by the way," she introduced herself, while extending her hand to him.

He took her hand in his and shook it, "I'm Jonathan Crane," he introduced himself.

"I'll see you around, I guess," she beamed at him and took off in the direction of the front office.

* * *

Within a week of Nina's arrival, Jonathan's assumption of her being at the very bottom of the food chain were proven to be true; she was at the very bottom with him. The only major difference being; all the jocks wanted her. None of the girls ever wanted him, though; not that he really cared.

During the first week of October, they learned that Bo Griggs and and Sherry Squires had broken up. Even though Nina had no interest in Bo Griggs, Jonathan had a massive crush on Sherry Squires for a number of years.

Jonathan waited about a week before building up the confidence to ask Sherry out to a Halloween Party. Nina had no interest in going to the party because she had to study for a massive test that was coming up in her trigonometry class.

At the party, Sherry coaxed him into going down to the basement with her. Once down there, she told him to kiss her. Just as they were about to, someone dressed as The Headless Horseman scared him half to death and he ran out of the party and out the door as fast as he possibly could. The Headless Horseman threw its pumpkin head at him, knocking him to the ground in the process just like what happened to Ichabod Crane in "Sleepy Hollow".

The person in the Horseman costume was none other than Bo Griggs! He and Sherry hadn't broken up, but had planned out a prank as a way of torment. The prank wasn't for Jonathan, however; it was actually for Nina. Little did they know, she hated parties and had no interest in Bo. When she didn't tell Bo about the party, they decided to go with Plan B: pranking Jonathan Crane.

So now, a humiliated and full of anger Jonathan Crane was walking home with the pumpkin guts still in his hair and on his face. He was also planning his revenge on the couple; they would _pay_ for what they did to him! He would make sure of it.

"Jonathan?" he heard a familiar voice ask.

His eyes widened and he turned his head to face Nina, "Nina?! I-I thought you w-were studying?!"

"I was but I finished, so I decided to do some endurance training," she replied, then asked, "What happened to you?"

"Bo Griggs and Sherry Squires happened to me," he responded with anger very clear in his voice, almost scarring her.

She ran over to him - since she was on the sidewalk and he was walking in the middle of the deserted street - and hugged him. He was shocked at this and it was only then that he realized that she was wearing very little. She was wearing a violet sports bra, white exercise shorts, a thin black jacket, and blue running shoes with silver stripes on both sides of both shoes. He blushed darkly at the feeling of having her abdomen and her hardened nipples - due to the cold temperature and all the running she did - pressed up against him in his Halloween costume. He felt a sudden rush of heat gather around his lower torso and knew exactly what it was.

She remembered her skimpy outfit and backed off from him with slightly flushed cheeks. "S-Sorry," she apologized with a shudder.

"I-It's, i-it's okay," he assured, also with a shudder.

"Well, uh, I better get going," she pointed her thumb in the direction she had been running.

"Um, me too. I better get home and wash out all the pumpkin," he replied.

"See you on Monday," she went back to her training.

"Yeah, see you," he muttered to himself.

He looked down in between his legs, his eyes widened at the site. He did in fact have an erection. He now he two things to deal with, the pumpkin on his face and in his hair and his erection. What a night!

* * *

It was now almost Senior Prom night and almost every Senior had a date, except for two; Jonathan and Nina. Jonathan didn't want to go but had to because it was the only way for his revenge plot work. Nina had just turned eighteen less than three weeks earlier and wanted to see if she could talk to an Army recruiter.

He was walking home from school, thinking over his plan for revenge. He felt down for some reason; he couldn't explain it, but he didn't want her to go. He tried to figure out why he didn't want her leave, but couldn't.

He suddenly found himself wanting to find her, but he had no idea where she could be. He knew where she lived but she did a lot if endurance training, so he had no idea if she was even home. He decided to take a gamble and see if she was there.

He made his way to her house and anxiously knocked on her door. He had butterflies in his stomach as he patiently waited for an answer to his knock. No matter who answers, it'd still make him even more nervous.

Just a minute after he knocked, someone _did_ answer the door. It was Nina. She was dressed in a floral blouse, black shorts, and her red and black shoes.

'Here goes nothing,' he thought, nervously.

"Hey, Jonathan," she greeted him with a warming smile, as if she somehow sensed his nervousness.

"Hello, uh, Nina," he greeted back, nervously; he was surprised that he hadn't started stuttering.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

He hesitated, "Um, Nina, I-I w-was w-wondering if yo-you wou-would," he swallowed sharply, "l-like to go to t-the P-P-Prom w-with m-me?" asked while repeatedly stuttering.

"Sure," she accepted, "why not?"

"Really?" he asked in disbelief.

"Yeah, it'll be fun. Do you want to come in?" she offered.

"No, thanks," he declined, "I still have homework to finish."

"Alright," she replied, a little confused because she knew that he usually finished his homework at school.

"Bye," he walked away from her house in a bit of a rush.

* * *

Prom night came faster than anticipated, since neither one of them had a car, they agreed to meet at the school. A red car pulled up and watched as Nina got out.

He was just in awe of her, she was gorgeous. She was wearing a burgundy gown that _really_ helped to show off her figure. The bodice was beaded, but he wasn't sure what the design was. The tool was made of a flowy material that had some red streaks, along with the burgundy. The neckline showed only a small portion of her cleavage, which relieved him. The gown was sleeveless, which showed off her slightly toned arms. She had her hair done in curls, most of which were held back by glittery moon crescent hair barrette and a hair band that had small white flowers. She was also wearing shiny black flats; she didn't want to wear heels because she didn't want to seem taller than she really was. She had on very little makeup, which consisted of a thin layer of red lipstick, mascara, and puce eye shadow. Finally, she had diamond stud earrings and her silver chained necklace.

He was speechless, had no idea what to say, she was just so beautiful. He gulped and finally spoke, "Y-You look g-great."

She smiled, "Thanks, my sister let me borrow her dress."

While he was gawking at her, he remembered something, "Oh! I-um brought this flower for you." He held up a white daffodil.

"Awww, that's very sweet of you," she continued to smile brightly.

He handed her the daffodil and watched as she carefully placed it in her hair. She now, in his eyes, looked even more beautiful than before.

"Shall we go inside?" he asked, surprisingly without a single shudder.

"I just about to ask you the same thing, you stole my thunder," she laughed.

She placed her hand around his boney bicep and waved goodbye to her Mom as she drove away. They walked into the school gym, where the Prom was being held, and immediately got a bunch of surprised and dirty looks. Well, he was the one getting most of the dirty looks. A lot of the surprised looks were from the jocks who were checking out her body and from cheerleaders who were envious of her figure.

They ignored all the looks and just tried to have a good time. Jonathan wasn't the greatest dancer in the world, but at least he could dance. Nina was a good dancer, however, she took dance classes as a child and still practices at times.

She kept her eyes on him and he did the same. However, he was watching Bo Griggs and Sherry Squires out of the corners of his eyes. She noticed this, but decided to save her investigations for the military.

"Hey," he started, "I never asked this, but why do you want to go into the military?" he asked.

"My great-grandpa was a bomber in World War I and my grandpa did radar in World War II," she explained, "I guess it's just in my veins."

"How long do you think you'll be in the military?" he asked, again.

She shrugged, "It depends; depends on how well I do and my rank."

"Do you go to a recruiter yet?" he asked.

"I did, I'll have to leave late tonight because he wants me to be at a training area for a physical examination at six A.M. sharp," she informed.

"So, you'll have to leave early?" he questioned.

She nodded, "Unfortunately."

He felt saddened by this news, but he was somewhat grateful. With her gone, nobody would see him leave the dance; giving him all the time he needed to carry out his revenge on Bo and Sherry.

"What time are you leaving?" he asked once more.

"I have to leave the dance by eight o'clock, we'll be leaving at one in the morning, so I'll get there early," she sadly informed.

An hour and a half later, she left to go home and start packing. She wouldn't be back until late Saturday night to early Sunday morning, meaning: he had all the time he needed for his plan for revenge to work.

"Hey, Ichabod, did G.I. Jane leave to defend yourself?" a random jock mocked.

He just stood there with his head down and his fists tightly clenched, making his knuckles appear to be a ghostly white. He didn't revenge on _just_ Bo and Sherry; he wanted revenge on _all_ of the people who have belittled him.

He was able to leave the dance without arousing suspicion. He hid in some bushes, where he had hidden a duffle bag. In the duffle bag was a homemade scarecrow costume and a black water gun that looked identical to a police revolver.

He threw on his costume as fast as he could. It was difficult to put on, as it had realistic hay on the inside to cover his limbs and to make him look like a real scarecrow that had come to life. He put on his mask and floppy pointed scarecrow hat. He hated the mask because it itched and scratched at his neck. He only wore it to mask his identity and to strike fear.

"Come on, babe," he heard Bo speak, "let's blow this joint."

"I'm right behind ya," he heard Sherry reply.

Now was time; time to put his plan into action. He swiftly, but carefully, made his way to the tree hovering over Griggs' car; the bushes and darkness kept him out of sight from everyone. He climbed the tree as soon as he reached it and went for the lowest, but thickest, branch; so that if he fell off, he won't get any serious injuries. He reached his desired branch and patiently waited for them. He was confident that the branch was high enough and it was dark out enough so that they wouldn't see him.

They walked up to the car and got inside, not knowing of who was waiting for them. He could see that they were sitting in the front seat.

He took a deep breath as he felt the adrenaline flow through his veins. He tightly gripped his water gun and carefully stood up on the branch. He crouched down and placed his hand on the truck of the tree, as a way of keeping his balance.

After a minute, he took action and jumped down from the tree, directly on to the hood of the car. Bo gasped and Sherry screamed at the top of her lungs! He placed his gloved hand on the windshield and pointed his water gun directly at them. He watched as Bo fumbled with his key chain and shakily started the car.

He jumped up back on to the tree branch when he heard the car's engine roar. He watched with twisted glee as the car drove out of the parking lot and accelerated in the direction of the police station.

He tore off his mask and glasses and cackled as he relished the feeling of finally being the one to plant the seeds of fear in their hearts instead of his. In that moment, he knew what he wanted to do in college; he wanted to show the psychology of fear.

Later that night, he learned that a car had swerved and bumped into Griggs' car as it was speeding away from the school. The other car had caused Griggs to crash his car into a tree. As the result of the impact, Squires had gone half way through the windshield; killing her instantly. Griggs had been able to escape with his life, but was permanently paralyzed as a result of the crash.

It disappointed him that Griggs was still alive, but he felt happy knowing that neither one of them will be able to torment others as they did him. You could say that he scared her to death and him half to death and that was satisfying.

* * *

Graduation Day was only a day way, it would also be the last day that Jonathan and Nina may ever see each other. She had been his one true friend, no, more than just a friend. Despite that they had only known each other for about nine months, he felt more comfortable with her than people he known his entire life. He didn't want her to leave, but she already had her heart set on the U.S. Army.

Since they had their first class together, he knew exactly where she sat and he decided to leave something so that she'll never forget him. He knew exactly what to give her.

When he arrived in their first class that morning, he went straight for her desk, just two rows and three desks behind him, and placed his gifted on it. He covered it with a paper towel and went to the library to return the last of his books.

He pasted Nina on his way there, but avoided eye contact with her, which confused her. She walked into their first class and walked to her desk; noticing the gift that Jonathan had left her. She removed the paper towel and saw what he left.

On her desk, were two red daisies with clovenlip toadflax and forget-me-not flowers with their stems wrapped around the stems of the daisies. In between the daisies was a pure white moonflower. Surrounding the daisies were yellow and purple orchids and gardenias. She was in absolute awe that someone would leave such gorgeous flowers for her.

While wondering about who had given her the flowers, she watched as Jonathan walked in. She looked at him and, this time, he made eye contact with her. It was as if he was confirming who left her the flowers.

* * *

The very next night, everyone sat in their blue graduation robes as they waited for the principle to show up with their diplomas. Jonathan and Nina sat next to each other because they were both Honors students, two of the very few. They said nothing and tried not to look at each other.

Eventually the principle showed up, he gave a speech about the school and it's students. "We will start off with our Honors students," he announced. "First…"

"Jonathan," she whispered as the principle talked.

"Yeah?" he replied.

"Can I talk to you after the Graduation?" she asked.

"Yes," he responded, "I was going to ask you the same thing."

"Jonathan Crane," the principle announced with a smile, "come get your diploma."

He stood up and walked up on to the stage. He and the principle shook hands one last time before handing him his diploma. He went back to his chair afterwards.

"Nina Leigh," the principle announced again with the same smiled, "come get your diploma."

She stood up and walked up on to the stage. They shook hands and her diploma to her. He gave her a friendly salute, which she returned with a smile. She went back to her chair afterwards as well.

Two hours later, the Graduation was finally over, students celebrated with their families as confetti was blasted everywhere. Everyone except for Jonathan, whose only family was his great grandmother, but she didn't show up; he wasn't surprised in the slightest.

He jumped when felt someone grab his hand, he turned and looked to see who it was; he sighed and smiled when he saw that it was only Nina. She lead him through the crowd of people to the side of one of the bleachers.

"What did you want to talk about?" he asked.

"I wanted to ask you, were you the one that left those flowers on my desk?" she questioned.

He inhaled and exhaled deeply before answering, "Yes."

"Why?" she asked.

"I did it because," he paused, a rush of nervousness and sadness suddenly coursed in his veins, "I don't want you to leave."

He pulled her into a tight hug. She was surprised by this, but returned his hug nonetheless. He could feel waterfalls of tears approaching on the horizon. He didn't want her leave him, he'd be alone again. His body shook as he sobbed in their embrace.

"Hey, hey, shh, shh," she soothed while she rubbed his back gently, "it's okay, it's okay."

"It's _not_ okay!" he suddenly sounded angry yet his voice cracked with sadness, "You've never been neglected or abused or bullied in the ways that I had my entire life!"

"No, I haven't," she continued to sooth, "but I do know what it's like to be alone. Both of my parents work long hours, my older sister is in college now, but even before she left; she was always with her friends and was always busy with her homework, my younger brother has a large social circle just like my sister, so he's never home either. My parents are going through a divorce and when it finalizes, my Dad will get full custody of my brother. It may be years before I see them again."

"Then why join the Army?" his voice rising, he looked at her with tears streaming down his cheeks, "Aren't you just doing the same thing that they did?"

"Jonathan," she squeezed his right shoulder, "you have to understand, no one will be alone, not even you."

"And why not?" he questioned, he was on the verge of having an emotional meltdown.

"My Dad has a new girlfriend, my brother has his entire group of friends, my Mom has a new boyfriend, my sister has her friends and boyfriend, and me, once I get to bootcamp; everyone in my Division, no, everyone in the Army will be my family. Everyone in the military is family, no matter the age, no matter the race, no matter what their background is," she did her best to explain.

"What about me?" he asked, his voice much calmer now.

"You won't be the only one to study psychology, you're not the only one who wants to study at Gotham University. You'll have people who will understand, you'll have teachers and instructors who will help you and who want you to succeed," she pointed out.

"I suppose you're right, I just didn't want you to forget me," he had clear sadness in his eyes.

"Is that the _real_ reason you gave me those flowers?" she asked softly.

He sighed, "Yes, I wanted to be sure that you would never forget me."

What she did next surprised him. She placed a hand on his cheek and tilted her head upwards. She cocked her head the left slightly and closed the gap between them. He closed his eyes and kissed her back, passionately. Her hand slid down from his cheek to the base of his neck. Her hand would occasionally massage his neck and collarbone. His right hand moved to the back of her head and his left hand tightened its grip on her waist.

They pulled apart, much to the disappointment of both of them, and rested their foreheads together. They knew that they would have to separate in just a few minutes, but at that moment, all they wanted was the warmth of each other from their embrace.

They heard Nina's mother call out to her, telling her that it was time to go. They were both saddened, but there was nothing they could do about it.

"I'll never forget you, Jonathan," she whispered to him.

They shared one last quick kiss before separating from each other. She smiled and waved at him as she and her mother walked away.

"I'll never forget you, Nina," he walked away from the bleachers and out the gate.

He walked in the direction of his home, where he already had his suitcases packed. He doubted that he would ever be returning to his hometown, he didn't want to even think about all his painful memories.

By morning, he would be on the first bus to Gotham. He wasn't sure what was in store for him there but for now, he had his sights on a degree in psychology from Gotham University.

 **O** -x~o- **X** -o~x- **O**

 **(A/N: Holy shit! More than 5,000 words! Wow!**

 **For those of you who are familiar with flower symbolism, then you should know what the picture and the flowers in this chapter stand for. A lot of the flowers I put in this are fairly easy to define, in my opinion.**

 **I apologize if there are a lot of typos in this, I tried to be as careful as possible. I think a lot of my writing inspiration for this comes from "Spoon River" and "Animal Farm".**

 **And before you guys can give me any shit, I already know and did research on the U.S. Army. I use to dream about joining the Army but thanks to my mental problems and physical disability, I can't.)**


	2. Chapter 2

**(A/N: I recently reread "Batman Year One: Scarecrow" and what I found was inconsistent with every other incarnation of Scarecrow. It said that he was roughly six foot-three! (It still has him as being skinnier than Alfred's knees. Lol.) I've been trying figure out why, but I think I'll just save it for another day. What can I say? I'm lazy.**

 **I also did some research on the Dark Knight Trilogy Scarecrow and found that he was born in 1973, but according to what I already know; Cillian Murphy was born in 1976, which would make him younger than his character! Another source (I forget which one) said that he was born in 1982! So which is it?!**

 **I've heard of actors that are younger than their characters but I do know that it's as common as a bouquet of flowers lasting more than two weeks without dying. I suppose someone could argue that when Carrie Fisher first portrayed Leia, she was between sixteen and nineteen years old. Anyway, my point is that Crane looks younger than thirty and at least slightly older than twenty-two.**

 **I'm very much aware that looks can be deceiving. In "Suicide Squad", the Joker looks twenty to thirty, despite the comics strongly implying that the Joker is most likely in his fifties!**

 **Anyway, for my story's sake, I'm just gonna say that when Jonathan and Nina reunite (*spoiler*), he's twenty-two, she'll be the same age. But (*a lot of spoilers*) when I get to the Dark Knight Trilogy, it'll be after (sorry, I can't tell you), which will be at least a couple of years after their reunion. I hope you guys are okay with all this.**

 **For those of you who are exactly like Dr. Crane, I did do** _ **a lot**_ **of research on the U.S. Army and a little bit on psychology! I'm sorry if it's not accurate. If there are a few things that are inaccurate, don't say anything at all!**

 **This is still in Third Person. So long and goodnight! Sorry, I just like listening to My Chemical Romance. I like Thirty Seconds to Mars better, though.)**

X-o-0~0~0-o-X

Jonathan - now Dr. Jonathan Crane - walked down the hallways of Arkham Asylum. He was on his way to a therapy session with patient 18739, who was a sufferer of autophobia - fear of isolation.

Jonathan had changed quite a bit in the past four years. His hair was shiny, neatly combed, and it's natural shade of brown that he hadn't seen since he was a pre-teen. His skin wasn't as pale as it use to be, but he was still lighter than sun-bleached human bones. He wasn't skin and bone like he had been for so many years, but he was still skinnier than the knees of a healthy yet very frail old man. His eyes were probably the only thing about him that hadn't changed, they were still as blue as ever. He now almost always wore a suit, because it made him look like the kind of person he was: highly intelligent.

He worked everyday of the week, a professor on weekdays and a psychologist on weekends and slow days. He didn't take many days off, only if everybody he worked with - at both jobs - had the day off. He had a surprisingly high immune system, so he almost never took a sick day off.

A guard greeted him when he walked up to the therapy room where his patient was waiting in. "Good Morning, Doctor," he tipped up the brim of his hat.

"Yes it is, isn't it?" he walked into the therapy room.

He closed and locked the door behind him, before walking up to the table. The room was dark and barely lit, but he could still see even if he didn't have his glasses - due to have gotten use to the lighting because of all the therapy sessions that he done.

He sat down at the table, placed a manilla folder, which contained the profile of this particular patient, on the flat surface, and turned on his tape recorder. "Hello, I'm Dr. Jonathan Crane," he introduced himself, "I'll be your therapist for this session."

"What's up, Doc?" the patient asked in monotone.

"Now," he opened the manilla folder, "Ivan Ackley, age twenty-five; it says here that you first started showing symptoms for autophobia in early childhood, tell me why."

"My Dad was cop," Ackley started, "he use to tell me stories about serial killers, rapists, robberies, kidnappings, and other things like that. He told me that nobody would hurt me and I believed him. One night, both of my parents were out and I went to bed. I woke up to the sound of drawers being opened, I assumed it was my parents, so I came out of my room to see them. When I did, I saw a robber going through my Mom's jewelry and another going through my Dad's gun collection. They saw me and attacked me, they knocked me out and the next thing I knew, my parents were talking to some EMTs. I've been afraid of being alone every since."

"Alright," Jonathan wrote down the story on a piece of paper. "Anything else?" he questioned.

"Not that I can remember," Ackley replied.

"Alright," Jonathan closed the manilla folder, "I think that concludes this session," he turned off his tape recorder. He stood up and walked out of the room, "I'm done in there," he told the guard.

* * *

It was now almost a quarter to eleven and Jonathan was getting ready to go home when his office phone rang. He smacked his forehead, "I swear," he muttered to himself, before picking up the phone, "Arkham Asylum, this is Dr. Crane speaking."

"Hello Dr. Crane, I'm Staff Sergeant Leigh. I'm calling to inform you that I'll be coming to your asylum tomorrow morning," a familiar voice informed, his stomach almost flipped when he realized who it was, "I sent an email about a month ago, which someone responded to and told me to call you."

He was in absolute shock that his close friend, whom he hadn't seen in four years, was calling him! "Nina, is that you?" he finally asked.

"Jonathan? So you became a psychologist after all," the voice joked slightly, confirming who he thought it was.

"Um, yeah, I did," he confirmed.

"I'd love to catch up but I've got a plane to board," she told him, "I'll see you tomorrow morning, bye."

"Uh, yeah, bye," he hung up with shock clear on his face.

He checked the time, it was just after eleven o'clock. He made sure that he had everything in his briefcase and closed it. He picked up his briefcase, turned off the lights and shut his office door. He walked up to the elevator, pressed the outside button, and patiently waited for it. He heard the elevator chime and open; he walked inside and pressed the first floor button.

'I can't believe I'm going to see her again!' he thought happily.

The elevator opened when it reached its designated floor. He walked out of the elevator and towards the front doors of Arkham. He walked out of the front doors and in the direction of the nearest monorail station. He was taking the monorail because someone had broken into his car just a few days earlier, so he had to take it to an automobile shop to fix the damages.

He wasn't concerned about being mugged by anyone, he always kept a semi-automatic pistol and spare bullets on him. He made sure to keep it hidden from everyone, so only he knew where it was. He also usually had a taser, but sometimes he forgot to bring it.

He made it to the station without any trouble and boarded one of the monorails. The ride would take a little while, but that was okay because it gave him all the time he needed to think about the next morning.

'What could she possibly want at Arkham? How long would she be in Gotham?' he questioned in his thoughts, he then started to worry a bit, 'Did she meet someone while in the Army? Does she have a boyfriend? Is she engaged?'

He groaned and grabbed a fist-full of own his hair, his grip bordered on a death-grip. He was falling apart on the inside at just the mere _thought_ of her being with another man!

"Are you alright?" he heard a thick, husky voice ask.

He released his hair - which was now a mess, just like how it was throughout most of his childhood - and looked up. An elderly African-American man wearing a light blue and red plaid button up, a worn gray sweater, and khaki pants was standing right in front of him.

"I'm just a little worried is all," he replied, it was mostly true.

"Would you like to talk about it?" the man asked.

He shrugged, "I suppose I do."

The man sat down next to him, "What's bothering you?"

"A friend who I haven't seen in four years is coming over to where I work and I'm just a nervous wreck!" he smacked the front of his right thigh.

"Do you know how long this friend will be there or why?" the man asked again.

"No," he answered simply.

"Is that what's bothering you?" the man continued to question.

"Actually, I'm nervous because I don't know if she has a boyfriend, fiancee, husband, or something like that," he admitted.

"Oh," the man smiled, "I see. You know what? Stop worrying about all this. You'll find out tomorrow, correct?"

"Yes," he answered.

"Don't stress out over it. You do know what happens to people who stress too much, don't you?" the man questioned, jokingly.

He laughed, "Yes, I do know."

The man stood up, "This is my stop, you be safe."

"Uh, yeah, you too," he almost sounded like the awkward teenager he use to be. 'So that's what it's like to have someone to talk to,' he thought.

About half an hour later, he was finally home. His home was actually an apartment less than a quarter of a mile from the main Gotham University campus. He had more than enough money for a house, but stayed close to the campus because of his other job.

The inside of his apartment was mostly bookcases and books. He had a small kitchen - which almost resembled a kitchenette, an armchair, a loveseat - which he sometimes found ironic, since he was unsuccessful in love, a television - which he seldom watched, a bathroom, and two bedrooms.

He went into the kitchen and took a bottle of scotch - normally he wouldn't drink on a night before he had anything important, but sometimes a little scotch or wine is just what he needs to relax a little before bed. He poured himself a small glass and went to his bedroom.

His bedroom was nothing more than a nine by twelve room. It had a medium-sized bed, a short five-foot long oak bookcase filled with a variety of different books, a closet, a dresser - the same size as his bookcase, a green wooden nightstand that had chipped paint in some areas, a lamp, and wooden floors. The bed had a couple of pillows with white pillowcases, white bed sheets, and a black and tan comforter.

He stripped out of his suit and tie, unbuttoned his shirt, and unbuckled his pants. Once finished, he was down to nothing but his underwear and a white t-shirt. He sighed, took off his glasses and placed them on his nightstand. He climbed into bed and fell asleep with thought of finally seeing his best friend after so many moons still fresh on his mind.

* * *

He woke up early that morning when the sun shined through his window. He groaned and covered his eyes with his forearm. He wished he could sleep in, but it was an important day.

After a minute, he got up out of bed. He stretched his still tired limbs, rubbed his eyes, and yawned. He walked out of his bedroom towards the bathroom. He took a quick shower and got ready for the day.

He put on a white polo shirt, a soft-gray suit, matching soft-gray dress pants, black tie, white socks, black dress shoes and his glasses. He walked back into the bathroom; he gelled and combed his damp hair. As a last touch, he sprayed on a little cologne - he didn't normally wear cologne, but, to him, it was a special occasion.

He grabbed his briefcase and an apple. He walked out of his apartment and towards the nearest elevator. He had one hour to get to Arkham on time. He pressed the button with his thumb and ate his apple while he waited.

The elevator opened, he walked inside and he pressed the ground floor button. The elevator stopped on the third floor to allow someone else from the building inside. It was Mrs. Lentini, a retired nurse who use to work at Gotham General Hospital. From what he knew, her husband was a retired ATF - or Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms - agent currently working as a volunteer firefighter.

"Good Morning, Jonathan," she smiled politely.

"Good Morning," he greeted with a slight smile.

She inhaled, "Are you wearing cologne?" she asked.

"Uh, yes," he admitted awkwardly.

She gave him a knowing grin, "A special occasion?"

"Um, sort of," he replied. "A friend of mine is visiting my workplace today."

"And that's special?" she asked.

He gave a small grin, "To me, yes."

The elevator doors opened and they both walked out. He went to the monorail station only a couple blocks away and she went to her mailbox.

* * *

He arrived at Arkham with only a few minutes to spare, he walked into his office and checked his computer. He checked his email first, but there was nothing new.

His office phone rang, "Already?" he muttered to himself, he answered it, "Arkham Asylum, this is Dr. Crane speaking."

"Jonathan," a voice he knew all too well spoke.

"Nina, when will you be arriving?" he asked.

"Eight," she answered simply.

"I look forward to seeing to you," he told her truthfully.

"I do too," she replied and with that, she hung up.

He was glad he'd finally be able to see her after all this time. He cocked his head and checked the time; it was just after seven thirty. He had plenty of time to ready not just himself, but his office.

Despite having a little OCD by keeping his office clean, he wanted to make it neat as a pin. He wanted to make his office as presentable as humanly possible! With her being in the Army, she would be able to notice even a paperclip that had been carelessly dropped and never picked up.

He spent the next twenty minutes picking up anything he found on the floor - making triple sure to leave not even a staple on the tile floor of his office - and rearranging everything on his desk in a neat, orderly manner. He gathered all of his papers and neatly stacked them together.

He checked the time again; it was seven fifty-seven. He used the last three minutes of his time to straighten himself up and dust off his clothing.

He sat down at his desk and waited. Whether he was waiting for someone to walk into his office or a phone call, he wasn't sure. He checked the time again, it was seven fifty-nine; she would be arriving in literally only one minute.

As if on cue, he heard a knock at his office door. "Come in!" he called out.

He intently watched as the doorknob turned and internally flinched at the slight screeching sound of his office door. The door gave off one last low, deep squeak that almost sounded like a yawning puppy, before fully opening.

Standing at the doorway, with her hand still on the doorknob, was Nina. She beamed at him with happiness clear in her eyes. He returned her smile with one of his own though he still sat in his chair. She let go of the doorknob and walked into the room.

The first thing he noticed was that she wasn't wearing an Army uniform; she was wearing a dark blue blouse, tight-fitted charcoal gray pants and black heels. Her hair was in loose curls and appeared to be much shorter and slightly lighter than how he remembered it. Her skin was lightly sun-kissed, probably from being out in the sun. From what he could tell, it looked like the makeup she was wearing was chapstick - if you could even call it makeup, blue-gray eyeshadow, and mascara.

"Good Morning, Jonathan," she stood in front of his desk.

"Please, have a seat," he gestured to one his chairs.

"Alright," she sat down in a chair, he now had a full view of her face.

They were now close enough for him to tell that she had just gotten out of the shower; he could could tell because of her slightly damp hair. They were so close, he could actually smell the scents of the products she used for her shower. He picked up an aroma of sweet water and traces of oranges when he inhaled deeply.

"I was surprised to get your call. Is there something going on?" he finally asked, moving his chair closer to his desk. His hands were neatly folded on top of said desk.

"There is something going on," she answered.

"What is it?" he questioned, before she could go any further.

"I'll be discharged from the Army in about three months and afterwards I plan to enlist in the Army Reserve as part of the Crime Investigation Division. The Army Reserve is sort of like a primary job, but I need a secondary job and so, here I am," she explained.

"Why come to Arkham, you do know this is an insane asylum, don't you?" he questioned sternly, although he was worried about what could potentially happen to her on that very day.

"I'm aware of what this place is, but I'm a trained M.P. I think I can handle these crazies," she replied calmly.

"How so?" he questioned, doubtful that she'd be able to get away from any of the paranoid and sadistic patients.

"As an M.P. I was trained in the use of firearms, chasing and subduing suspects. In boot camp, I was trained in survival tactics for various situations and in lifting twice my own body weight. I think I can take of myself," she finished explaining.

"While that is impressive, do you know how to handle the insane?" he continued with his questions, hoping that she'll give up on Arkham.

"I don't know much about psychopaths in general," she admitted, "but I have had to handle drug addicts and alcoholics."

He took off his glasses, which almost excited her because it had been so long since she had seen those gorgeous blues. "Look, I can tell that you can take care of yourself, but do you think you'll be able to handle people who hear voices to kill others?" his voice was close to cracking, but somehow managed to keep it solid. He seriously wanted her to reconsider coming here to Arkham, he knew that she was saying she wants to be a prison guard. If she did so, she wouldn't last even one round around the wing assigned to her.

"Look," she placed a hand on top of his, which was resting on his desk, "I know you're worried about me, but I promise I'll be alright," she assured.

He stood up, pulling her up with him, carelessly dropped his glasses on his desk, and gently grabbed her wrists. She was surprised by this at first, but said nothing as he leaned in closer. She leaned in closer to him as well when he pulled her hands closer to him. After what seemed like hours, he finally closed the gap between them and kissed her with passion and longing. She was a little shocked by this, but kissed him back with the same passion and longing nevertheless.

He released her wrists and grabbed her shoulders, while her left hand was on his cheek and her right hand was on the side of his neck. She gently caressed his neck, which for some reason brought slight pleasure to him; it took everything he had to hold back a moan.

He was starting to feel a little light-headed and his lungs were almost starting to feel heavy from the lack of oxygen. He let go of her and pulled away, taking in several breaths.

"S-Sorry," he apologized, "that was," he paused briefly, "unprofessional."

"It's fine," she reassured quietly, "I-uh, I missed that feeling."

"What feeling?" he asked, trying to make her elaborate; despite knowing exactly what she meant.

"That feeling we shared four years ago at our graduation," she replied.

He blushed slightly, "I, um," he paused and swallowed nothing save for his own saliva, "missed that feeling, too."

She walked around his desk, so that they were now standing face-to-face with a small smile plastered on her lips the entire time. She reached up and ran her hands through his soft hair, "I knew there was something about you that was different."

She kissed him, again, this time it was only for a few brief seconds. She pulled away from him and picked up the forgotten glasses from his desk. She gingerly placed his glasses back upon his face. She placed them upside down - as a way of being comical, he took them off and properly placed them back onto his face.

"Well, uh," he cleared throat, "would you like to catch up sometime?"

"Yes, I would," she replied, "but it would have to be either tonight or tomorrow morning. My flight back to base leaves tomorrow afternoon."

"I'm busy all day tomorrow," he pushed back his messed up hair. "How's nine o'clock tonight?" he asked.

"Perfect," she replied.

"Great, um," he placed a hand on the back of his head in an embarrassed manner, "my car got broken into, so, um, I hope you know how to take the monorail."

"I do, don't worry," she answered.

X-o-0~0~0-o-X

 **(A/N: Again, sorry if it's inaccurate, I really did do my best but a lot of it was blocked for some reason. Also, sorry if there are a lot of typos in this, I really did try to be extra careful.**

 **Something weird happened to me today, I was checking my email and saw a PM from an unfamiliar website. I looked at it and saw that it was sexting! In a rage, I told them, "Eat shit! You people are fucking DISGUSTING! You should go to jail for trying to seduce a minor!" No joke. I hope my response doesn't lead to hacking and and all that shit. I'd be better off dead!**

 **I don't know about you all, but I'd much rather fuck with my jackass ex-boyfriend than doing any kind of sexting! If they ever PM me, so help me God, I will destroy every last one of them!)**


	3. Chapter 3

**(A/N: Ok, before we get started, I'd like to thank Cassie-011 and Liam1094 for the nice reviews. You guys are awesome!** :) :) :) **It's nice to know that there are people who support what you enjoy to do.**

 **I recently watched a couple of scenes from the 1947 adaption of "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow". Omg, it is hilarious! I would definitely watch the whole movie if I could! Ichabod Crane is pretty on point in his physical appearance in the novel in the movie! I can see why Scarecrow was given the nickname Ichabod in high school, his appearance in "Batman Annual 19" is strikingly similar to Ichabod.**

 **I'll be writing the next chapter for my "Scooby-Doo" story pretty soon. I'm excited to get back to it. I've watched the movie "Scooby-Doo: Shaggy's Showdown" at least three times, I just love it! I like watching it but I hate all the scratches on my ipad screen.** :(

 **Anyway, that's enough, I have a busy week ahead of me and I need to finish as quick as possible. See you soon!)**

I-o-I-o~X~o-I-o-I

Jonathan arrived home early that night to get ready for dinner with Nina. He went to his bathroom and took a shower. He had already taken one that morning, but he had been in a filthy asylum all day and wanted to be clean for her.

He stepped out of his shower, wrapped a towel around himself, grabbed his clothes, and walked out of his steaming bathroom into his bedroom. He took out an off-white oxford shirt, khaki trousers, and a black tie. He laid his clothes out on his bed and removed his towel to dry his wet hair. He finished with his hair and his slung his towel over his shoulder. Water drops trailed down his back and chest, the light from his lamp glistened his chest as the drops dripped.

He put on his underwear then his pants, he tossed his towel on the floor and put on a white t-shirt and his oxford shirt. He buttoned up his shirt and tucked it into his pants. He picked up a black belt, put it through his pant loops, and buckled it. He sat on his bed to put on his socks and shoes. He grabbed his tie and tied it, before standing up and walking out of his bedroom, back into his bathroom.

He walked up to his bathroom counter, he opened his mirror cabinet and took out his hair gel, cologne, toothpaste, and toothbrush. He squeezed out a little gel from it's tube and brushed it through his hair and combed it. He unscrewed his toothpaste and squeezed out a little onto his toothbrush. He quickly brushed his teeth, making sure not to miss a single spot. He put away his toothpaste and toothbrush, before taking out his mouthwash. He unscrewed the bottle and poured a little of it into the cap, he sipped it and spit it out after a minute. Finally, he sprayed on a little cologne and he was done getting ready.

Nina had spent most of her day catching up on sleep and calling her family. Since she's not allowed to be on her electronics while on duty, she had no idea what was going on in her family. She found out that her sister had gotten engaged and she was six months pregnant. Her brother had built up the courage to ask a girl he liked on date and was off the market. Her Mom had gotten remarried and her Dad had proposed to his girlfriend.

"Yeah, it was nice to finally see Jonathan again after four years," she spoke to her Mom on her cell phone.

She would've called her family when she had gotten to the hotel room her friend had booked for her, but she wanted to get as much sleep as possible. When out in the field, you were only ever given two to five hours of sleep - usually. Whoever came up with so little sleep for so long must've been inhuman!

"That's great, honey! So, how's your love life?" her Mom asked in slight teasing tone.

"Non-existent," she responded right away.

"Really? None of your fellow soldiers catch your eye?" her Mom asked with doubt and disbelief.

"Every guy I work with is either married or in a relationship," she answered.

"I see," she replied, "well, I gotta go. Love you, bye."

"Love you too, bye," she hung up.

She checked in the time and saw that it was a quarter to six. 'I better start getting ready,' she thought. She stood up from the armchair she was sitting on while on the phone and went into the bathroom.

She closed the door and locked it - it was mostly out of habit, but also for safety; you just never know. She stripped out of her clothes and walked into the frosted glass shower - she had already taken one, but she wanted to feel fresh.

She stepped out of the shower just five minutes later. She could've been in the shower much longer than that if she wanted to, but, while on active duty, you get only a few minutes to bathe. She dried off in the bathroom then wrapped her towel around her body, grabbed her clothes from the toilet seat and walked back into the bedroom.

She put her clothes on the armchair, bent down, picked up her dull, light green duffle bag and placed it on the bed. She unzipped her bag and took out a pair of lingerie and the only dress she had with her; she placed them aside. She zipped her bag back up and moved it aside.

She removed the towel from around her still wet body and wrapped it around her head to dry her hair. Droplets trickled down the plain of her back from her damp towel and hair. And some flowed from the wet hair stuck to her neck and collarbones down her chest to her toned abdomen.

First, she put on her strapless lace ivory bra and matching thong. Then, she put on a dark blue long-sleeved, v-neckline dress that went down to her ankles. The bodice of the dress was form-fitting, so her curves were _very_ obvious. The neckline was high enough as to not expose her bra, but it did show a portion of her cleavage. She had on a thin, sparkly belt around her hips. Lastly, she sat down onto the bed to put on her shiny black flats.

She unzipped a pocket on her duffle bag and took out a toothbrush, toothpaste, body spray, some makeup, hair spray, and a brush. She stood up with everything she had taken out of her bag and walked back into the bathroom.

She stood in front of the mirror while she brushed her damp hair. Once her hair was straightened, she picked up her curling iron and began to curl, this time, just a few seconds longer than when she curled her hair that morning. Once finished, she reached behind her head and sprayed just a little hair spray. She squeezed out a little toothpaste onto her toothbrush and brushed her teeth. Next, she put on mascara, navy blue and silver eyeshadow, and light pink smear-proof lipstick. Lastly, she sprayed on a little lavender and vanilla scented body spray.

Before walking out of the bathroom, she picked up her necklace and put it on. She checked herself in the mirror one last time and walked back into the bedroom.

She through on a tan trench coat and grabbed her cell phone, her room key, her wallet, and her taser - just as a safety precaution. She stuffed those items into the pockets of her trench coat and walked out of the hotel room.

Jonathan waited for her outside of the restaurant, it was only a few minutes before their reservation. He had called her many times, asking where she was, she had assured that she was on her way. He knew her better than most people; he believed her.

He checked his watch for the twentieth time when he saw her walking in the crosswalk. He raised his hand up for her, which she noticed and came over to him.

"Hey, Jonathan," she beamed up at him.

"Nina," he embraced her with a smile of his own.

They inhaled the scents of each other - she inhaled the scents of his cologne and shower products and he inhaled the scents of her shower products, hair spray, and body spray. She suddenly found herself wanting to bury her face in his chest. The same could be said for him, he suddenly wanted rest his chin on top of her head.

They separated after a minute, both had flushed cheeks. There was a split second of awkward silence, which Jonathan was the first to break, "Shall we?" he gestured to the front door of the restaurant.

"We shall," she replied comically. She wrapped her hand around his bicep and they walked into the restaurant.

"Hello. Welcome to the Spanish Potato," the hostess greeted them with a polite smile.

"We have a reservation for two; under Jonathan," he told the hostess.

"Let me see," the hostess searched the restaurant's computer, "Jonathan Crane?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied.

"Alright, please follow me," she gestured for them to follow, which they did. She led them to a booth in the corner, "Your server will be right with you," she handed them their menus.

"What have you been up to since we graduated high school?" she asked, breaking the silence between them.

"After high school, I went to college at Gotham University and by twenty-one I had two degrees in Psychology and Chemistry. I was offered a position as a psychology professor by the Dean of the University. Not long ago, I was offered a position at Arkham Asylum as a psychiatrist and therapist," he told her pretty much his entire story, but spared her all the gory details.

"Wow, sounds like you never get a day off," she joked.

"Your turn. What's been going on in your life?" he questioned.

"Well, as you already know, I went into the Army and became an M.P. but I want to be apart of the Crime Investigation Division. Unfortunately, they don't allow you to do that specific job unless you're a Staff Sergeant, you've been in the Army for four years, and you've been a Staff Sergeant for one year. I just got promoted to Staff Sergeant recently, so I still have a long way to go before I can fully fulfil my dream," her story was more of an explanation of why she's in Gotham. Not that he minded, he'd listen to her all day if he ever had the chance.

Just a little over an hour later, they were walking to the nearest monorail station. They weren't worried about being mugged, they both had tasers - unbeknownst to one another. Plus, Nina had her military training and Jonathan had his violent dancing.

They arrived at the monorail station and waited for their respective monorails. The hotel Nina was staying at was in Uptown Gotham, Jonathan's apartment was in Midtown Gotham. It upset both of them that they would be parting so soon, but what's waiting just a little while longer going to do?

Nina looked up at one of the overhead boards, "Looks like I'm leaving in five minutes."

Jonathan looked up at the time for his monorail ride as well, "The same for me, too." He sighed, "Nina, I'm sorry this night was too short."

She looked up at him and smiled, "Don't be. You said that you were going to be busy all day tomorrow. I'm leaving tomorrow afternoon anyway, so," she shrugged.

He chuckled, "Yeah, you're right about that."

Five minutes came by faster than expected because they heard a voice announce the amount of time they had before the monorails would leave over the intercom. Jonathan frowned when Nina stood up from the bench they sat on. He stood up just after she did to embrace her.

She happily returned his hug by wrapping her arms around him in a gentle hold. "I had a great time tonight," she pecked his cheek.

He didn't know exactly how to respond to that, he had never been on a real date before - unless you count the "pumpkin incident" or Senior Prom Night as a date. Just like on the night of their Graduation, he didn't want to let go of her; he was that she felt the same way in that moment.

As if she knew what he was thinking, she spoke in a soft, almost reassuring voice, "I don't want to let go either, I would like to stay with you, but I can't."

He said nothing, instead, he placed his hand on her cheek and gave her a sweet and passionate yet brief kiss. She kissed him back, but pulled away after remembering her time limit.

He stood there, crestfallen and lament, as she walked onto the monorail. He inhaled and exhaled deeply through his nose, before making his way to the monorail headed in the direction of his apartment.

I-o-I-o~X~o-I-o-I

 **(A/N: Sorry if this took a little too long, I've just been really busy lately. I apologize if this chapter is a little short, I ran out of ideas.** :P

 **I really got nothing else to say, so I'll see you guys later then!)**


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